


All the small things

by Idicted



Category: Star Trek: The Animated Series, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Spock (Star Trek), Hurt!Spock, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Shrinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 16:22:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idicted/pseuds/Idicted
Summary: A routine away mission turns into an adventure when Spock and McCoy find they have shrunk so that the surface of a perfectly safe planet suddenly becomes a hostile environment. They face unexpected dangers and must figure out a way to get back to the Enterprise.





	All the small things

**Author's Note:**

> I love the Animated Series episode "The Terratin Incident" but always thought it would have been so cool if the crew had been off the ship and out in nature because this provides so much material for a great adventure. So this is my attempt to write something like that, Spock and McCoy centric again, because I love them. 
> 
> Also, the title is obviously taken from the Blink182 song and I have worked bits of the lyrics into the story:)
> 
> Hope you enjoy and I love comments so don't hesitate to tell me what you think!

 

 

“How much time will you need to collect the samples?” James Kirk asked as he accompanied his two best friends to the transporter room.

 

“Seeing as I will have to adapt my own working pace to Dr McCoy’s, I believe 8.53 hours will be required, captain,” Spock replied.

 

“Hey!” McCoy protested, “What are you saying? That you’d get it done faster without me? If I’m so inefficient, why don’t you go by yourself, you green-blooded computer?”

 

“I did not mean to imply that you are inefficient, doctor, I merely factored in the human need for breaks, as well as your habit of halting work in order to make conversation,” Spock stated evenly. “Besides, it would be illogical for me to undertake this mission alone, as you possess greater knowledge on the possible medicinal uses of the plants we are to examine.”

 

McCoy huffed. “Leave it to a Vulcan to insult and complement you in the same breath,” he grumbled.

 

Spock raised an eyebrow. “You ability to over-interpret a mere statement of fact will never cease to fascinate me, Doctor McCoy.” 

 

Kirk grinned. “I see, you two will not get bored without me. I expect to hear from you in eight and a half hours then. Or before that, if there’s any trouble.”

 

“I believe it highly unlikely that we should encounter any difficulties. The area I have selected for beam-down consists mainly of grassland. The climate is moderate and there is no animal life aside from insects and small rodents.”

 

“Very good, Spock. By the way, I’m surprised you chose to accompany Bones down to the planet instead of staying here to study the shrinkage of the white dwarf in the Labali System.”

 

“As you know, captain, I have entrusted Lieutenant Amiri with monitoring the phenomenon. He was written a programme allowing the computer to track the shrinkage in detail. As a matter of fact, he is just now finishing feeding the commands into the main computer.”

 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re fleeing the ship, though,” Kirk remarked.

 

“Captain, I am not ‘fleeing’ the ship. The mission is a fascinating opportunity to obtain valuable medicinal plants and it is most fortunate that we can both safely monitor the developments in the Labali System from our present location and access Nibra VII to conduct planet-side research. I chose to devote myself to the latter in order to give Lt. Amiri the opportunity to take the lead on the white dwarf study. He is a very… enthusiastic officer.”

 

“But?” Kirk probed.

 

“I will admit that I am somewhat… dismayed at the Lieutenant’s tactile habits,” Spock confessed. “Whenever Lt. Amiri wishes to convey a discovery, ask a question, or simply make a statement, he appears to feels the need to initiate physical contact.”

 

Kirk frowned. “Looks like someone needs a refresher course in intercultural communication,” he mumbled. “Spock, I’ll talk to Amiri. You shouldn’t have to deal with crewmembers who don’t respect your personal space.”

 

Spock inclined his head. “Thank you, Jim. I would indeed be amenable to spending more time in the astrophysics lab again.”

 

“Aww, Spock,” McCoy interjected as they arrived in the transporter room, “and here I thought you were happy to beam down to the planet just to spend some quality time with _me_!”

 

Spock did not deem McCoy’s remark worthy of a reply and only cocked an eyebrow, but Kirk chuckled softly.

 

“Have a good time, you two, and Bones, and don’t tease Spock too much, or I’ll have to sign you up for that intercultural communications class, too,” Kirk winked.

 

“I’ll do my best but I can’t promise anything,” McCoy said good-naturedly as Spock gave him a long-suffering look.

 

“Energize!” Kirk told the transporter technician and watched his friends dematerialize before heading back to the bridge.

 

***

 

“What in the name of…” McCoy stuttered. “Spock, didn’t you say something about grassland?”

 

“Fascinating,” the Vulcan commented, pointing his tricorder at their surroundings.

 

They seemed to be standing in a jungle, different plants rising up high all around them, dense and tangled, and forming a canopy above their heads that was almost impenetrable to light. The shapes of the stems and leaves around them blurred in the dim light and the ground had a musty scent. A low buzz filled the air.

 

“Did you get the coordinates wrong?” McCoy asked, eyeing the shadowy depths around them suspiciously.

 

“Negative, doctor,” Spock said, glancing at his tricorder. “We are exactly where we intended to be.”

 

“Then how do you explain this?” McCoy made a sweeping gesture at their surroundings. “Clearly, we’re in a forest.”

 

“There are no forests on Nibra VII, doctor,” Spock intoned carefully. “I believe our problem is one of proportion rather than location.”

 

“In English please, Spock,” McCoy snapped, beginning to suspect that he wouldn’t like whatever the Vulcan was going to say next.

 

“I believe,” Spock said calmly, “that since we are currently standing at the designated coordinates, we are indeed in a vegetation region predominated by grassland, however, to us it appears as though we are in a forest because we are currently about 180 times smaller than our usual size.”

 

“What?” McCoy sputtered, trying to understand the implications of Spock’s words. “You mean, we’ve shrunk and we’re only around one centimetre tall?”

 

Spock nodded. “Precisely, doctor.”

 

McCoy sat down, trying to regain his composure, but immediately got up again as the ground was moist. _Not again_ , he thought. Memories came flooding back. The Enterprise, only half a year ago, the crew shrinking progressively until they had been unable to operate the Enterprise, crew members falling and injuring themselves, McCoy having to fix Sulu’s broken leg with a micro laser designed for middle ear surgery. These were not experiences we cared to repeat.

 

“Terra 10 all over again,” he stammered.

 

“Not quite,” Spock disagreed. “On Terra 10 the cause of our change in size were spiroid epsilon waves caused by an ion storm. There is no ion storm in this quadrant. Besides, on Terra 10, only organic materials shrank. As you can see, doctor,” Spock pointed to his tricorder and then to the rest of their equipment, “non-organic material is also affected in this case. This might work to our advantage.” He opened his communicator. “Spock to Enterprise.” - Silence. “Enterprise, come in, please.” - Nothing. “This is Commander Spock calling the Enterprise. Enterprise, do your read?” - Still nothing. Spock closed his communicator.

 

“Fantastic,” McCoy mumbled, trying his own communicator, but to no avail. Spock changed the frequency on his, and McCoy’s communicator beeped.

 

“Interesting,” he commented. “The communicators are functional, but their range appears to have been affected.”

 

“So what now?” McCoy asked.

 

“I suggest we proceed with our mission as planned, doctor. We have 7.82 hours until the captain will expect us to beam back aboard and will therefore realize that something out of the ordinary has happened. Since we can do little else at the moment, I suggest we use our time effectively and obtain some of the samples we came here for.”

 

McCoy sighed. “Might as well,” he grumbled. “I sure hope Jim can get us out of this though.”

 

And he set of after the Enterprise’s First Officer, who was making his way through the undergrowth.

  

***

 

They had been walking for about thirty minutes in the direction where Spock’s tricorder had indicated the presence the first flower on their list of plants to be collected. McCoy was trying to calculate in how many strides they would reach their destination at their normal height.

 

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly when something tugged at this uniform shirt from behind, yanking him off his feet. He gave a surprised cry that died on his lips when he looked up and saw the head of a kind of giant ant looming over him, its mandibles clicking menacingly. Instinctively, McCoy rolled to the side as his attacker struck, but the of the insect’s sharp jaw blades nevertheless hit McCoy on his shoulder, eliciting a cry of pain.

 

At that moment, a sharp whirr filled the air and the ant collapsed in a heap next to the doctor. Spock was at his side instantly.

 

“Doctor, are you alright?” he asked, concern clearly visible on his face.

 

McCoy sat up, gingerly moving his shoulder. There was some blood, but he could feel that the cut was superficial, having torn no muscles or ligaments.

 

“I’m ok, Spock, thanks,” he said, trying to get up but feeling his legs wobble under him. “I just might need a minute here,” he admitted.

 

Spock knelt down next to him and began to inspect the wound on his shoulder. Wordlessly, he took McCoy’s medical kit from him and began to expertly clean and dress the cut. When he had finished, he got up and began to circle the still form of the ant, which, now that McCoy looked at it properly, was probably not an ant at all. There were some similarities, like the body divided into three segments, with six legs and antennae, but its body shimmered in a metallic blue and was covered with small thrones. Also it was clearly larger than the Earth variety. Spock was scanning it with his tricorder and once he had completed a full circle around the insect’s body, came back to stand at McCoy’s side.

 

“Doctor, can you travel?” he asked earnestly, offering McCoy a hand up.

 

“Yes, I think so. I was just feeling a bit shaky from the shock but all better now. Thanks for your quick reaction by the way. At least we know the phasers still work, huh?”

 

“Indeed,” Spock answered. “However, I suggest we commence our journey before the stun effect on the creature wears off.”

 

“No argument from me there,” McCoy mumbled, and once again he set off after Spock, more aware of their surroundings now, turning around every few minutes to check for giant ants approaching.

 

***

 

Lieutenant Amiri was in Spock’s seat at the science station, requesting a readout from the computer on the shrinkage of the white dwarf recorded over the last three hours. Once the readout was complete, Amiri frowned and took it over to Kirk, who was sitting in the captain’s chair, signing a report Yeoman Rand had just handed him.

 

“Captain,” Amiri said, touching Kirk on the shoulder. Kirk turned to his right, meeting the Lieutenant’s confused face.

 

“What is it?” Kirk asked.

 

“Captain,” Amiri said, “this time lightly touching Kirk’s arm (Kirk was beginning to get annoyed at the Lieutenant’s habit even though he was not a touch telepath). “I just requested a readout from the computer terminal, but I think there must be a malfunction.”

 

The readout, normally made in A4-format, was only about a centimetre in breadth, the writing on it so small as to be unintelligible. Kirk frowned. “Call Engineering and have them run diagnostics on the terminal, Lieutenant. Since you’re going to have to take a break from your observations, why don’t you join me for lunch in the rec room. I want to talk to you about something.”

 

“Yes, captain,” Amiri agreed eagerly. 

 

 _Better get that talk over with now_ , Kirk thought as Amiri joined him in the turbolift.

 

The rec room was almost deserted and there was no queue at the food synthesizers.

 

“What would you like?” Kirk asked Amiri who was trailing behind him.

 

“I’ll have what you’re having, captain,” Amiri answered, giving him a light pat on the back. Kirk ducked away from the touch and inserted the food card for steak and fries in the synthesizer. _After all, Bones is not here today_ , he thought.

 

Seconds later, the synthesizer presented him with an empty plate, or so Kirk thought. For when he looked more closely, there were indeed a steak and fries on it, but each item was no more than one centimetre long.

 

“What the… is this a joke?” Kirk inserted a tape a second time only to be presented with another tiny portion of food seconds later.

 

“Amiri, come have a look at this,” he called.

 

“Strange, captain,” Amiri mumbled, “first the readout and now the food synthesizer.”

 

“Call engineering,” Kirk ordered, for the second time today. “I want to know what is going on aboard my ship!”

 

***

  

“Hey, Spock!” McCoy was panting. Two hours after their encounter with the giant ant, they were still marching through the meadow-turned-forest and he was starting to get tired, the cut on his shoulder emitting a dull ache under the strain. “Can we take a break? Where are those damn flowers anyway?”

 

“Certainly, doctor,” Spock responded smoothly, looking not even a little bit winded. “We should reach the plant in another 2.5 hours at our current pace.”

 

McCoy dropped to the ground, heedless of the moisture creeping into his uniform trousers.

 

“Two and a half hours? Spock, what even is the point of trying to get there? And shouldn’t we have stayed in the place we beamed down so that Jim can find us later?” he asked. “Since we can’t make contact with the ship, how are they supposed to find us if we move?”

 

Spock hesitated for the briefest of moments as though weighing up how much to tell McCoy, then answered reluctantly: “Doctor, I believe our safest course of action at this time is to make our way to the flower.”

 

McCoy gaped at him. “Why?”

 

Spock gave the smallest of sighs but began to explain patiently: “It is logical to assume that our change in size was caused by a transporter malfunction on the Enterprise because there is no ion storm in this area and non-organic materials are also affected. It is further logical to assume that the cause of the transporter malfunction has also affected other systems aboard the ship and that the captain will therefore become aware of our predicament. This leaves the captain with three courses of action. One, beam down in spite of the fact that he knows the transporter malfunction may cause a search party to lose contact with the Enterprise. Two, wait until the malfunction has been remedied and then beam down a search party. Three, dispatch a search party via shuttle craft. I believe the captain will choose either option two or three. In either case, we must be prepared for the fact that this search party will be many times larger than us. In our current state, their boots could be quite deadly to us. ”

 

McCoy paled. He had not thought of it this way. Jim’s arrival was supposed to end their predicament, not make it worse.

 

“Then how will getting to that flower help us?” he asked, confused.

 

“For the captain to find us, we must stay at or near the beam-down coordinates. However, beam-down coordinates always cover an area of six square metres as this allows for beaming down multiple persons at one time. While six square metres is a small area at our usual size, for the captain this will mean looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, as you humans say. Since the vegetation is quite dense and we have no means of signalling the captain, there is only one logical way to ensure he will find us that will also avoid us being inadvertently trampled.”

 

“Which is?” McCoy asked, both exasperated and impressed at the Vulcan’s analysis of the situation.

 

“To make our way to the first flower on our list of plants to be examined and await rescue there. While this will take a short distance away from the beam-down coordinates, it will take us closer to the captain’s field of vision.”

 

“Field of vi…you mean you want to climb one of those trees and hope he sees us once we’re up there?” McCoy asked incredulously. “Spock, that’s mad. He will never find us.”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I disagree, doctor. As you know, these are not trees, but grasses and flowers. Our list of plants to be sampled is quite precise. The first item are the petals of a flower of the Campanula family, of which there are only nice specimen in the vicinity of the beam-down coordinates. If we make our way to one of these flowers, the captain should be able to detect us there without too much difficulty. However, if you have a different suggestion as to how we might proceed, please voice it.”

 

“I don’t have a goddam idea how to get out of this, Spock, but that doesn’t mean I have to like your crazy idea,” McCoy exploded. “I can hardly follow your convoluted logic when you explain it to me, how do you expect Jim to deduce all of this? And you know how high these blasted flowers grow? It’ll be like climbing a 100 metre-high tree. I’m a doctor, not a free climber.”

 

“Nevertheless, doctor, I see no alternative at this time,” Spock said softly. “I am in command and therefore responsible for your safety. I can order you to follow me, but I would prefer if I did not have to do so. However, before we continue, I suggest that you inject yourself with a painkiller for your injury and that we take sustenance. The tricorder has detected a plants growing berries save for consumption nearby.”

 

“I don’t need a painkiller.” McCoy said grumbled irritably.

 

“Doctor, again, I can make this an order, but would prefer if I did not have to.”

 

“Fine,” McCoy sighed and took a hypo from the pouch on his hip.

 

Soon they were off again, this time in search for food.

 

***

 

Kirk returned to the bridge to find two perplexed engineers at the science station, staring at a number of narrow printout strips at their feet. Minutes later, Montgomery Scott entered from the turbo lift, striding over to his 'lads', checking a number of circuits and shaking his head in confusion. As he approached the captain's chair, Kirk could see something akin to desperation on the man's face.

 

“I was just in the rec room to check the food synthesizer, captain,” Scott reported. “It's not just that one synthesizer, it's all of them. And when I tried to reproduce a phenta-meter to check the Heison's coils, it gave me this.” Scott opened his hand under Kirk's face and held out a tiny tool, measuring, Kirk estimated, about a centimetre in length.  

 

“Everything seems to be roughly the same size,” Kirk observed. The readouts, the individual items of food, this tool. Can't be a coincidence now, can it, Scotty? Check the main computer.”

 

“Aye, sir,” the engineer nodded, leaving the bridge with his staff in tow.

 

***

 

McCoy had to admit that the berries – or berry, for cutting pieces from a single one had been enough for both of them – had been delicious and that he felt much better after eating something. Now they walking again, headed towards the flower Spock had selected as their destination.

 

The Vulcan was still in the lead and McCoy was trailing slightly behind. Still wary of encountering more ants, McCoy looked behind him and when he returned his gaze to Spock, he found the Vulcan had stopped walking and was suddenly soaking wet.

 

“Spock, how…?” McCoy did not finish his sentence, as Spock grabbed him firmly by the arm and manoeuvred him towards a nearby group of giant mushrooms.

 

“Rain, doctor,” Spock explained, as large drops of water began to fall around them hard and fast.

 

Pressed against the stem of a mushroom and sheltered by its cap, they watched as small rivulets of water converged into a stream on the already oversaturated ground and finally turned into a torrential river. As the banks of this river swelled and grew closer and closer to their shelter, Spock shouted urgently over the boom of the river: “Doctor, I suggest we move to higher ground.”

 

He stepped out from under the mushroom and moved to the stem of a nearby plant. Though the first leave that might be used as a step on the way up was two metres above ground, Spock easily scaled the stem and looked back at McCoy from his position on the leave expectantly. The doctor made a real effort to follow but kept slipping down the stem. By now the water was so close that he had only a hand's breadth of ground left to stand on.

 

Seeing his predicament, Spock swiftly moved back down the stem, landing gracefully next to McCoy and folding his hands to offer him a leg up. Finally safely atop of the leaf, McCoy looked down, expecting to see Spock following him, but was shocked to see the ground give way beneath the Vulcan and Spock slipping into the river, desperately holding on to a root of a plant sticking out into the flood.

 

“SPOCK!” McCoy screamed in horror, unable to do anything to help as a large piece of driftwood – probably something as inconsequential as a piece of bark – came careening down the river and slammed hard into Spock’s side, causing him to lose his hold on the root. Spock briefly went under but managed to get his head back above water and to hold on to the very piece of wood he had just collided with. He was quickly carried down the river and out of McCoy’s sight, while the doctor was left sitting on the plant leaf as if paralyzed, staring at the spot where his friend had disappeared.

 

***

 

“I'm really sorry, captain, I don't understand how this happened.” Lieutenant Amiri pleadingly put a hand on Kirk's forearm.

 

“Can you reverse it?” Kirk asked, pulling his arm away.

 

Scott and his team had finally found the problem of the strange malfunctions when examining the main computer and traced it back to the modifications Amiri had made for the observation of the white dwarf, specifically to the fact that he had programmed the computer to register changes in the star's size to the accuracy of one centimetre.

 

“I – I'll try, captain,” Amiri stuttered. “I'll get to it right away.”

 

***

 

When the rain had finally stopped, McCoy had been forced to stay where he was until enough water had seeped away into the ground and he could finally slide down the plant’s stem. Unlike Spock earlier, he landed gracelessly on his behind, but it made no difference, he was already wet to the skin.

 

He decided that his best course of action would be to walk along the river to try and find Spock. He hoped that the Vulcan had not been carried too far, and above all, he hoped that he would find him alive and not drowned like a rat. McCoy had tried his communicator but Spock was not answering. The doctor was trying to tell himself that the Science Officer must have lost his communicator in the river, or that he was out of range, but couldn’t shake the nagging fear at the back of his mind that Spock might be unconscious, or worse.

 

 _Vulcans and water are simply not a good combination_ , McCoy thought. While it was not exactly cold on Nibra VII, it was not exactly warm either. If Spock was alive, hypothermia and injuries were a real possibility. McCoy felt for the medical kit at his side, assuring himself that it was still firmly attached to this hip. It was only a small comfort to find it there however, he simply was not equipped to deal with anything more serious than his own injury earlier, which Spock has so expertly treated. McCoy sighed. _If Spock were here_ , he thought, _he would no doubt tell me it’s illogical to dwell on possibilities when one can discover realities, so I better get going_.

 

***

 

When Spock opened his eyes, the first thing he felt was water sloshing around him. His head was pounding and he felt disoriented, but soon understood that he must have been washed up on the banks of the river and that his torso was resting on pieces of driftwood, while his legs were still submerged in water.

 

Spock slowly and painfully pulled his whole body onto the bank and finally managed to crawl onto dry land, where he vomited a volley of water, collapsing exhaustedly. He felt cold and his head and side throbbed. Gingerly, he felt his ribs where the piece of wood had hit him. _Broken_ , he realized, moving his hand to the spot on his head where the pain seemed to radiate from, bringing it away slick with green blood.

 

He desperately wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but even though his thoughts were foggy, he understood that he needed to get up and move. He was cold to the bone, his body already shaking, jolting his broken ribs uncomfortably. If he did not generate body heat soon, hypothermia would set in. Besides, he needed to find McCoy and they needed to get to the their original destination so that they could return to the ship. _To Jim_ , Spock thought, stumbling to his feet and slowly setting off along the river in the direction he had come from.

 

***

 

McCoy estimated that he must have been walking for over an hour now. Keeping his eyes trained on the banks of the river, he was trying to swallow his panic over the fact that there was still no sign of Spock. McCoy mulled over the events of the day, realizing all of a sudden how much he always relied on Spock, how dependent he was on him.

 

It had been Spock who had realized what was going on in the first place, Spock who had developed a plan to solve their predicament, Spock who had saved him from the giant ant, Spock who had made sure he was as comfortable as possible despite his injury. McCoy bit his lip. Even though he frequently accused Spock of being unable to understand human emotions, today Spock had not only tried to protect McCoy from the harsh realities of their situation, keeping his analysis of the situation to himself until McCoy explicitly asked him about it, he had also been patient and calm when finally explaining it to the doctor. _And of course_ , McCoy thought guiltily, _he put himself in danger to make sure I was save_.

 

All the small things Spock had done for McCoy showed true care, the depth of the Vulcan’s friendship for him. The doctor knew that he would probably never get off this planet without Spock’s help, but that was not why he was so desperate to find him. At this moment, he just wanted to make sure Spock was alright because, _damn it_ , he cared about the Vulcan just as much as Spock cared about him.

 

McCoy turned a bend in the river and felt a jolt of adrenaline at the sight of Spock, who was walking towards him, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

 

“SPOCK!” McCoy shouted, excitedly, beginning to run towards his friend.

 

***

 

“Report, Lieutenant!”

 

Amiri was sitting on the ground in front of the main computer, his head hidden in his arms, legs pulled up to his chest. At the captain's voice, he hurriedly stood up, cheeks flushing bright red.

 

“I'm sorry, captain, I've tried everything I know but I can't fix it. It's like the code has taken on a life of his own,” he mumbled helplessly.

 

Kirk frowned. That was not what he had wanted to hear. He turned to Scott, who had accompanied him to check on Amiri's progress when the Lieutenant had not reported anything for two hours.

 

“Anything you can do, Scotty?”

 

“Nae, captain,” the Chief Engineer said apologetically. “I think it'll take someone with an A-7 computer qualification to untangle this mess.”

 

“Mr Spock has an A-7 computer qualification,” Amiri piped up hopefully.

 

Kirk glanced at the chronometer. Another hour before Spock and McCoy were due to beam back aboard, but this issue took precedence. He moved to the intercom. “Lieutenant Uhura, contact the landing party, request Mr Spock beam aboard immediately, Kirk out.”

 

“Aye, sir,” the communication officer's voice said cheerfully.

 

“Captain,” Scott interjected, “I just realized... I mean, I cannae be sure, but it's possible that this malfunction has also affected the transporters.”

 

Kirk's eyes narrowed. “What are you saying, Scotty?”

 

Scott's eyes were wide as he began to explain: “All ship's systems that have to do with matter transfer and production are affected. The synthesizers, the science console readouts... and possibly also the transporters. So I think it's possible, well, it might be that the doctor and Mr Spock are... well... about a centimetre tall right now.”

 

Kirk's expression would have been comical had the situation not been so serious. Just as he had processed Scotty's words, the intercom whistled.

 

“Uhura here, captain. I am unable to make contact with either Commander Spock or Dr McCoy. I don't read any communicator signals at all, sir,” she said, clearly disturbed by her findings.

 

“Understood, Uhura,” Kirk said grimly. “Inform the bridge crew and Dr M'Benga I want to see everyone in the briefing room in ten minutes, Kirk out.”

 

He looked over at the frightened Lieutenant and added. “And you're coming too, Mr Amiri. Let's go.”

 

***

 

At McCoy’s shout, Spock lifted his eyes from the ground and immediately lost his balance, a wave of vertigo washing over him. When he opened his eyes again, the doctor was hovering over him, his face concerned, medical scanner already whirring.

 

Spock slowly sat up, McCoy’s hand supporting his back, then moving to touch one of his hands.

 

“You’re really cold,” McCoy said, worry etched into the lines on his face.

 

Spock made no attempt to deny it. Now that he had stopped walking, his body was beginning to shiver again.

 

“We should keep moving, doctor,” he stated matter-of-factly, “however, I am experiencing strong sensations of vertigo at this time.”

 

“You have a pretty nasty cut on your head,” McCoy answered, carefully examining the wound. “Did you loose consciousness?”

 

Spock inclined his head, immediately regretting the movement.

 

“Keep your head still,” McCoy instructed. I need to clean the cut and I can give you something for the vertigo, but it’s not a long-term solution. You have a concussion and standard medical kits are not equipped to deal with those. We really need to get you back to the ship.”

 

“Then it is all the more imperative, doctor, that we move soon,” Spock said as McCoy bandaged his head.

 

McCoy frowned. “You also have three broken ribs on your right side. Normally, I would advise you move as little as possible, but you’re right, we need to get to that plant. I can bandage your ribs now, that should at least bring a bit of relief.”

 

He peeled back Spock’s wet uniform top and undershirt, exposing the angry yellow-green bruising on his ribcage. When he had finished wrapping their last bandages around Spock’s torso, he emptied two hypos into Spock’s arm, one for the vertigo and one for the pain and helped the Vulcan to his feet. Looking around he spotted the large furry leaf of a plant, whose small hairs had repelled the rainwater. He ripped it off its stem and placed it around Spock’s shoulders like a blanket.

 

“Thank you, doctor,” Spock acknowledged, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

 

Only now did it occur to Spock to check whether he was still in possession of his equipment. His phaser and communicator were gone, but the tricorder was miraculously still slung around his shoulder. In spite of having been thrown around the river along with him, it still worked and Spock quickly determined the direction they had to take towards the flower.

 

“We are now not far from our destination, doctor,” Spock informed McCoy as they began walking in the direction the tricorder indicated. “It should take us 21.8 minutes to reach it.”

 

“Well that’s the first piece of good news I’ve heard all day,” McCoy grumbled, keeping a careful eye on Spock who was walking steadily but stiffly.

 

***

 

Kirk looked around the briefing room, where the entire bridge crew – minus Spock – was assembled. Dr M'Benga had also joined them and Lieutenant Amiri was looking distinctly uncomfortable among the senior officers.

 

“Commander Spock and Dr McCoy are currently on the surface of Nibra VII, however, we are unable to make contact via communicators," Kirk began the meeting. "It is likely that due to a computer malfunction which has affected systems ship-wide and therefore most probably also the transporter, they have been reduced in size to about one centimetre in height.”

 

The bridge crew and Dr M'Benga exchanged surprised glances as Kirk continued: “We are unable to eliminate the malfunction, but Lieutenant Amiri” - he gave the Lieutenant a pointed look - "and Mr Scott are confident that Mr Spock would be able to rectify it. The problem, however, is that we cannot beam Mr Spock or Doctor McCoy aboard without a communicator signal. Suggestions, please," Kirk closed curtly.

 

“Vhy not just beam down a search party, keptin?” Chekov asked.

 

Kirk sighed. “Mr Scott has informed me that we can’t receive communicator signals from the landing party because most likely their communicators have been shrunk with them and their range reduced. If we beam down, we, too will be shrunk and unable to contact the ship and nothing will be accomplished.”

 

Chekov nodded thoughtfully.

 

“If we can’t use the transporters, captain, the only option is a shuttle,” Sulu spoke up. “There is no strong weather on the planet and no storms in the atmosphere, so piloting a shuttle should not be a problem. I'll be happy to go and retrieve Mr Spock and the doctor.”

 

“Thank you Mr Sulu,” Kirk acknowledged. “The problem is, I'm not sure how to find them once we're down there and I don't want to rush into anything that might endanger them. Remember, they are likely only about a centimetre tall right now. Dr M'Benga, can you predict the condition they're likely to be in and what we should do to make sure they are safe?”

 

M'Benga hesitated for a moment before answering. “In principle they should be in normal physical condition but I cannot predict whether they have encountered any... problems on the planet. The planet is inhabited by animals and insects that are usually harmless enough to us, but at their size, they may well be perceived as prey, or may have hurt themselves trying to scale obstacles. In general, I would say the greatest danger if a search party goes down to the planet would be to inadvertently crush them or cause them to fall... we should also be careful with noises, as what seems like regular volume to us will be deafening to them.”

 

Kirk nodded appreciatively at the doctor's input. “So it would make sense to start searching for them at their beam-down coordinates, on the other hand, if they stayed there, we might just crush them if we land a shuttle there. Spock knows all of this of course,” he mumbled. “So what would they do, _logically_ , to make sure they are safe but we can still find them?”

 

“Get to higher ground,” Uhura supplied, all heads turning towards her. “If you don’t want to get stepped on, you would move to higher ground, right?”

 

At Uhura’s words, Kirk suddenly had an idea. “Mr Sulu, meet me in the shuttle bay in 15 minutes. You too, Mr Chekov, and bring a list of the plants McCoy and Spock planned to research. We’re going to get them back.”

 

***

 

McCoy was staring up at the tree  - _the flower_ , he reminded himself - they would have to climb. Spock had informed him that at their current size, it would be a climb equivalent to 94.8 metres. McCoy had to swallow hard as he looked up at the dizzying heights of the flower that under normal circumstances would hardly reach up to his knees. _At least, this plant has plenty of leaves along the stem, so climbing it should not be too difficult,_ he thought. Boy, was he wrong.

 

The first ten metres of the climb were relatively easy, but the higher they got, the more the plant began to sway in what McCoy supposed was a breeze but felt like a fairly strong wind. He was beginning to feel his injured shoulder again and glanced over at Spock who was using the leaves at the opposite side of the stem to pull himself up. The Vulcan’s face was stoic but McCoy knew that the painkiller he had given him earlier was not enough to suppress the pain of the broken ribs sufficiently and that it was only Spock’s iron will that kept him going.

 

McCoy glanced up and saw that about halfway up the stem there were two larger, concave leaves. “Spock,” he said, panting, “how about once we reach those big leaves up there we take a break? I think you need to rest.” Spock briefly glanced up and nodded. “A wise suggestion, doctor.” The fact that Spock didn’t argue with him, telling him something about superior Vulcan strength made McCoy realize how serious the Vulcan’s condition had to be. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself onward, unable to do anything to make this easier for his friend. But McCoy was determined to stay positive. At least the wind was slowly was drying their wet clothes.

 

***

 

The shuttle touched down a considerable distance from the landing party’s original beam-down coordinates. This meant they would have to walk for about an hour to get there but also ensured that they would not endanger Spock and McCoy by causing strong winds or tremors on the ground.

 

“Once we approach the beam-down point, walk carefully and make sure not to jostle or trample any of these flowers,” Kirk said, holding out a pad to Chekov and Sulu showing a picture of a lilac coloured, balloon shaped blossom.

 

“Campanula,” Sulu nodded appreciatively.

 

“Examine the blossoms carefully,” Kirk continued. “I think Spock and McCoy are waiting for us on one.”

 

***

 

When McCoy pulled himself onto the big leaf, he was reminded of the time his ex-wife had pushed him into a fountain at a fancy dress party after they’d had an argument. It was like sitting in a bathtub except fully dressed and much more embarrassing. Now, of course, embarrassment was not something he had to worry about, as it was only him and Spock who was in a similar situation. The Vulcan was standing up on his leaf, eying the pool of water with distaste. McCoy also stood up and scrutinizing Spock detected small tremors running through the Vulcan’s body.

 

“So much for a break then, huh?” McCoy asked, trying to keep his voice level. “I can give you another hypo for the pain and for the vertigo,” he suggested.

 

“Negative, doctor,” Spock replied. “It is unsafe for you to cross over to my side of the plant. Let us continue.” And without waiting for a reply, Spock continued to climb.

 

The breeze had picked up and the flower was swaying dangerously. Another five metres up, McCoy thought he might be seasick soon and tried to look over to Spock to see how he was faring but the Vulcan was gone. Panic grabbed McCoy as he frantically tried to determine what had happened. Looking down, he spotted Spock’s body perched precariously on the large leaf where it met the stem. The Vulcan hung there limply and McCoy immediately understood that he had to be unconscious and could slip off the leaf and fall at any moment.

 

McCoy quickly climbed back down to the big leaf on his side and manoeuvred himself around the stem, trying to get to Spock. The Science Officer had been right to warn him about this earlier, it was slippery and definitely dangerous, but McCoy saw no other option. Once safely on the other side, he pulled at Spock with all his might, causing both of them to splash into the pool of water accumulated on the leaf.

 

McCoy reached for his medical kit to give Spock a stimulant, but to his dismay discovered that he must have lost it in his hurry to climb down to where the Vulcan was lying. Looking around, McCoy noticed that they were now quite high up. _Shouldn’t there be more light up here_ , he wondered, still trying to determine where his medical kit had gone. That was when he realized that the reason for the dim light was that the sun was setting on the sky of Nibra VII and his heart dropped. _Spock is cold, wet and injured, I have to medical kit and no supplies, and there is no way Jim will find us when it’s dark_ , he thought desperately. McCoy closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. _Don’t panic_ , he told himself. But that was easier said than done.

 

***

 

McCoy was holding Spock close to keep him as warm as possible. He had cut a small hole into the leaf they were sitting on to drain the water about thirty minutes ago and now desperately wished for the leaf blanket Spock had left at the bottom of the plant before beginning their ascent. He was carefully rubbing the Vulcan’s arms and back to generate heat and aid circulation. “I know you don’t like touching, Spock, he mumbled, “but this is an emergency.”

 

He had briefly considered leaving Spock on the leaf and climbing up to the blossoms of the flower just in case Jim came looking for them, but had decided against it. Spock was so cold McCoy could not risk leaving him alone exposed to the wind. Besides, he still didn’t quite believe that the captain would understand he was supposed to search for them on the flowers. Nevertheless, McCoy hoped that he had indeed figured it out and that help was on its way because he certainly wouldn’t be able to keep Spock from becoming hypothermic much linger.

 

Suddenly, he felt the earth shaking and after a few seconds, a deep shadow fell over them. McCoy glanced up to see a giant looming high above them. He could make out the familiar command gold uniform and saw a face growing closer and closer. _Sulu!_ McCoy’s heart skipped a beat. He stood up and began to shout Sulu’s name but the navigator was oblivious to him, his view of McCoy and Spock obscured by the flower’s blossoms. Large fingers carefully pried apart the petals high above McCoy’s head and after a few seconds the ground trembled again as Sulu disappeared from McCoy’s view.

 

“No, Sulu! We’re here, SULU!” McCoy shouted desperately, but to no avail. Defeated, he dropped down beside Spock, burying his head in his hands.

 

***

 

Kirk, Sulu and Chekov were standing on Nibra VII as the last rays of the sun began to disappear behind the horizon, shoulders slumped. They had checked all nine of the flowers in the vicinity of the beam-down point but to no avail. Kirk ran a hand across his face. They were running out of time.

 

“Check again,” he ordered. “And this time not just the blossoms, check the stem and the ground too. Maybe they just didn’t make it to the top.” He sounded unconvinced but Sulu and Chekov responded with “Aye, aye, captain,” setting off immediately, just as desperate to find the two missing officers as Kirk was.

 

***

 

McCoy was staring bleakly up to the darkening sky. Spock had been right. He had had the right strategy to make sure the search party would find them and it was McCoy’s fault that they hadn’t made it to the top of the plant. _If only I had checked Spock out more thoroughly, if only I had realized he was close to collapsing_ , the doctor scolded himself. _I should have climbed up alone, I should have…_

“Do not blame yourself, doctor.” McCoy jumped at the sound of Spock’s voice.

 

“Spock! You’re awake! God, I didn’t realize I was talking out loud,” he said, feeling the same kind of embarrassment he had been reminded of earlier.

 

“You were not,” Spock whispered. “I am a touch telepath, doctor.” Spock’s voice was so weak it made McCoy’s heart ache. “You are currently touching me, therefore I can sense your emotions. I do not know precisely what you were thinking, but I could sense that you were experiencing feelings of self-recrimination.”

 

McCoy swallowed. “Spock, I’m sorry. They were here. Sulu was here but I couldn’t get his attention, I…”

 

“Doctor,” Spock interrupted him sharply. “Do you still have your communicator?”

 

“I think… yes.”

 

 _Back in range_. Realization hit McCoy and he whipped out the communicator, opening it.

 

***

 

When Kirk’s communicator beeped, he opened it, hopeful that it was Sulu or Chekov with good news. The voice he heard, however, made Kirk jump. “McCoy to Kirk.”

 

“BONES!” Kirk was momentarily speechless. “Where are you?”

 

McCoy felt a jolt of happiness and felt Spock go slack beside him. He’d lost consciousness again.

 

“Jim, I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice! We’re on one of the flowers, halfway up the stem. Listen, Spock is hurt. Did you fix the transporter?”

 

“No, Bones, we came in a shuttle. We’ll come get you.”

 

“Good, Jim. I need you to beam down a couple of things from sickbay.”

 

***

 

24 hours later, McCoy was standing on the transporter platform where Kirk had carefully deposited him. He was thinking of the events since their rescue on Nibra VII. Treating Spock with the miniaturized medical equipment on board the shuttle on their way to the Enterprise, Spock fixing the computer malfunction by instructing Scott and Amiri what to do over the communicator, being carried everywhere in the palm of Kirk’s hand. That last part he wouldn’t miss, McCoy decided, he was definitely prone to seasickness.

 

He glanced over at Spock who was standing next to him. “You sure this will work?”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow at the question. “The probability of success is 99.8402 percent, doctor.”

 

“Thant’s pretty good odds,” McCoy mumbled but closed his eyes nevertheless as they dematerialized.

 

When he opened them again, he was looking at a landscape of grass and flowers, swaying softly in a mild breeze.

 

To his right, Spock was speaking into his communicator. “Spock to Enterprise, transport completed successfully. You may return to normal settings and beam us back up.”

 

“Aye, sir,” Scotty replied. “Give us ten minutes, Scott out.”

 

For a while they regarded their surroundings in silence.

 

“I prefer the view from up here, McCoy said eventually. Don’t you, Spock?”

 

Spock inclined his head. “A matter of perspective, doctor.”

 

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” McCoy asked, half irritated, half amused.

 

“Vulcans do not joke,” Spock replied, humour palpable in his voice. “I merely meant that I have come to appreciate…small things.”

 

“Not sure what you’re talking about,” McCoy stated, now utterly confused.

 

“Then I will be explicit, doctor. I appreciate all that you did for me during our adventure. You showed me small acts of… kindness that quite literally ‘warmed my heart’ as you humans say – and the rest of my body – and ultimately saved my life.”

 

“Oh.” McCoy was momentarily speechless.

 

“Well, Spock,” he said after a while, “I could say you would have done the same for me, but I don’t have to because you _did_ to the same for me. From keeping me save to figuring out how to get back to the ship. You even fixed the damn computer… What I mean to say is… I don’t know what we… what _I_ would do without you.”

 

McCoy smiled at Spock who was giving him the Vulcan version of a smile in return, and McCoy was certain that the pleasant tingling feeling in his stomach had started before the transporter beam took them back to the Enterprise.

 

 

 

 


End file.
